The Wanderer Returns
by crimefictionfan
Summary: I've always loved the pilot, and in this story I've simply fleshed out and fabricated a little background and padding. I like Robbie and Laura, but I don't own them.
1. Chapter 1

She surfaced in the pre-dawn darkness to an awareness that today she had reasons to be cheerful. She'd been woken by her phone, an early call out, which was not unusual. She knew today was his return to duty. He was back. Exciting. She showered, she dressed, she picked up her briefcase, slipped on her shoes and left the house with a fond glance back. She loved her home and garden. She loved Oxford too and drove to the scene listening to Radio 4 and enjoying the wide roads devoid of traffic at this early hour.

En route thoughts turned to Robbie. Laura knew him from her early days working in the city. She'd witnessed Morse's right hand man find himself once his boss died on the job. Some felt Morse mistreated Robbie, but he brought out in him a natural learning curve, filled with respect and bordering on love at the end. He learned from his intelligent, analytical approach; he learned how to conduct the painstaking unravelling of a case, even when it went against the advice of Strange and Robbie blossomed into the most respected man in the Oxford CID. OK Morse had his faults: he had an eye for women and was regularly sidetracked and distracted, but that's when Robbie came into his own and was able to give his boss a nudge, a shove even, in the direction of the killer. He learned his craft, he felt, from a master. He had the advantage of a genial manner: a trait rarely seen in Morse who was all too frequently unsympathetic. He showed kindness to strangers and wasn't easily fooled. He'd sift and shift the clues until he got it.

All that was before Val was killed. The extent to which his world was rocked by her untimely death came as no surprise to Laura. He'd always given the impression he was a loving husband and family man. The hit and run caused Robbie to flee, to escape the hell that Oxford became in its aftermath. He couldn't bear to be in the house; he couldn't bear to be out of it. He was off work for months on compassionate grounds. Wrecked, he packed up their home and sold it. Morse had left him a substantial inheritance which meant he could take time out and if he ever wanted to return to the south, which was home to him in a way that Newcastle wasn't any more, he had the means to do so.

Laura thought often of her history with Robbie. They were friends, she knew that. He turned to her too and saw in her a fellow minded professional who could give her all to the job in hand. She sought to amuse him by adding levity to the frequently gruesome evidence. You'd go under if you didn't. Morse was no bundle of fun and his bagman liked a laugh and a joke. She took pleasure in sparring with Morse and exuded silent sympathy for Robbie whenever he became whipping boy. Morse didn't always treat Laura well either and she was often on the receiving end of his lack of finesse with women unless he had an eye for them. Then he could and would bend the rules, compromise his principles and police procedure and seek out a date, a drinking partner, even a dance. Morse respected Laura Hobson though - valued her judgement and soon realised she was far more up to date than Max had been - but to him she was wallpaper, he barely saw the woman. At first Laura tried to win him over with flirting and inviting him for drinks, but once she got the measure of him she gave up - not her type at all - and made a connection with his sergeant instead. They bore the brunt of his acerbic tongue together and joined forces when they found themselves in the line of fire. They teased each other but she readily gave him her expert opinion and he valued her. Thus Laura, younger, sparky and attractive, found a mate in Robbie Lewis and all this came flooding back as she drove to the scene.

Then, Robbie had been in control of himself and his life. He was happy, amiable, outgoing, not easily provoked. He liked a beer but didn't overdo it. He could be angry when it was justified but could keep the lid on things too. Moderation in all things was the name of his game. That was then. Val's death set in motion an understandable decline in which he could barely contain his anger and frustration and in the days before his secondment to the BVI he started drinking too much. Late, late nights in which it was not unusual for him to down a bottle of whisky. He couldn't bear to let go of the day. Hated bed and sleep and the bad dreams which filled the brief hours until morning and another empty day rolled round once more. At his lowest ebb he realised how futile his life has become. Robbie knew this spiral of despair could ruin any future so he opted for time out, a couple of years away as a last resort. If that didn't work, and he didn't have any confidence that it would, he would drink himself to death. He would give up the job, take early retirement which was the norm for police in their fifties and leave the world as he knew it behind. He loved his kids but they were neither dependent or a regular feature of his life. And then fate stepped in.

The BVI helped. With lovely weather for most of the year, warm seas to swim in and sport which ratcheted up the endorphins in him, Robbie was forced to forget, albeit briefly, the terrible depression, lethargy and anger that came hand in hand with grief. Not least in this process was pleasant, undemanding company. To start with he felt an overwhelming apathy. He sought no social life throughout the first year, but where the need arose he went out. He was polite. He always left early. Gradually things began to change. He bought a small boat and made friends, probably acquaintances is more accurate, at the yacht club. The men were all married. He didn't meet a woman he thought twice about. As time passed, home and Oxford, and increasingly, and to his surprise, Laura, played in the back of his mind. He wrote a few times and she responded. Weekends away, playing or watching cricket, sailing, swimming, snorkelling, golfing all helped him forget. He might have gone through the motions at first but life wasn't all bad and slowly the clouds lifted. Though he feared he would never return to normal spirits again, imperceptibly chinks appeared in his grief-stricken persona.

Robbie did well. He worked long hours but if the truth be told he found it easier than at home. He was never out of his depth. A smaller island, fewer people, somehow a less devious community than Oxford academics. Murderers yes, but nothing that stretched him too much. The scale of his bitterness and resentment became less consuming. The BVI had surreptitiously worked its magic on him until one day even paradise palled and Robbie felt it was time to go home. More than that he wanted to go home, to be a DI, to try to find a meaningful life in Oxford again. Home meant Oxford. He knew that. He was partially healed and would face whatever lay ahead. He'd come a long way in more ways than one.


	2. Chapter 2

As Laura neared the city centre she looked lovingly at Oxford's classical buildings. She negotiated the maze of narrow medieval streets and parked alongside the sleep clinic. Meanwhile Robbie had flown into England and was met by a young, hitherto unknown sergeant, James Hathaway, fairly new to the force and temporarily assigned to him. Robbie knew that things had changed since Val's death and his departure from Oxford. Strange was gone, Max too and Morse was now five years gone. He was on his way to meet Jean Innocent the new chief super who would be outlining his returning duties. He hadn't come across her before, knew nothing about her and assumed she would be brisk, bright and efficient. Hathaway suddenly slowed at a roadside incident, interrupting the perennial loop of despair playing in Robbie's head and they were diverted again to a sleep clinic, so he drove his new boss there, arriving at the same time as Laura. At last. A friendly and welcoming face, Robbie thought. "Hello Doctor" he said and was immediately cheered at her "Cor - can't you turn down the volume on that shirt?" The perpetual summertime in the BVI meant heat and dust and casual clothes. Oxford was formal and meant suits. Its majestic buildings matched his monumental grief. About his shirt he didn't give a jot but he registered that she looked nice in a shirt that was just as bright as his. "Good to see you too Doctor" said Robbie with his first smile of the day. "You too" she replied warmly and she nodded to greet Hathaway. Robbie looked at Laura and saw the woman, he definitely liked what he saw - a confident, capable colleague, a bit of a mate but not much more. He wasn't looking for a woman and she wasn't looking for a man, so their relationship was easy he reflected. However it was good, really good to see her again. Rejecting a scene suit, she managed to convince him they were all the rage now. Another bloody change, he thought, and picking up her case this newly formed trio entered the building to meet the victim. Laura cared. She liked him. Robbie felt his broken heart shift a notch. "I wish the NHS did job attachments to the BVI. Did it help?" she asked. "A little. What's she like, the new chief super?" "Dresses well - he gets on with her" she said with a nod to Hathaway keeping up the rear.

The case, a Regan Peveril, a sleep volunteer, shot at point blank range in her bed. Concentrate man. This is work. It's why you came back and it might, it just might help. Not very likely but it might. One step at a time. Concentrate Robbie, concentrate, he said to himself. They did their initial observation of the scene but it was not until his second visit to the clinic that the two men met its director Kate Jekyll. Another doctor, another capable woman, but more sympathetic to Lewis than Jean Innocent had been. Kate took one look at Robbie and liked what she saw. Nice, very nice, she mused. I like. This just might be worth pursuing - so she set out to be pleasant. They discussed Danny Griffon, a sleep volunteer and friend of the victim. Kate had a soft spot for this troubled, likeable young man and it was mutual. He sought her help and support and she was kind to him always. She saw a vulnerable post-adolescent and knew his background was privileged but shaky. She was happy to be his sounding board and hoped she could help him find stability again after the death of his father, which Danny saw as suspicious. She hoped to help with his transition back to a more normal life for a bright young maths student at Oxford who should have the world at his fingertips. Feeling slightly overcome, whether it was the heat or the potential new man in her life, Robbie, ever the gallant, asked "Do you need some fresh air?" and took her outside where she relaxed and recovered.

Kate Jekyll lived alone. A few short relationships had not produced her ideal man. She hadn't given up looking though and the tall, pleasant DI - well he might just fit the bill she thought. Bumping into him later that day in the supermarket she saw him buying meals for one and dared to ask, noticing his wedding ring "Is your wife away?" - and learning he was a widower she couldn't help feeling things were improving by the minute. He'd picked up a shirt, any shirt and when she redirected him to one more suitable for work and one which would replace the jazzy one he was wearing, it confirmed her feeling that she was IN. She looked intently at her new man as she shared a cup of tea with him in the supermarket cafe and happily furthered her mission by giving him sleeping tablets to remedy the 28 hours he'd been awake brought on by jet lag.

Home for Robbie now was a small flat and he sat bewildered, lonely, exhausted and depressed at his kitchen table that night. He put his head down and knew nothing until Hathaway knocked on his window the next morning and woke him. Tablets untouched. A quick shower, clean clothes, but not a new man. He was still crying inside. Oh Val, Val, here's yet another awful day without you. They had a gunman to find and Robbie made a beeline for the mortuary to discuss Laura's findings. They chatted easily and usefully about the case which had connections with Morse. Morse had been surprisingly sympathetic to Danny Griffon way back. Looking at Robbie her heart contracted painfully and she saw a damaged, rock bottom, shell of the man he once was - emotionally wrung out now and such sadness behind his lovely blue eyes. In a gesture of friendship she stroked his arm and though he flinched he accepted the comfort she offered as ever so gently she asked him about Val. She wanted above everything to soothe his troubled soul, to help and support him and find a way to make his life more bearable. She had no thought for herself, but yearned to help him. She did not want to avoid the biggest tragedy of his life and while most people steered well clear, which in truth Robbie preferred, Laura was different. How he missed a woman's touch. How he had denied himself this. How lovely she looked at this moment. A faint internal voice chimed Stop. Stop right there man, and as Hathaway entered the room the closeness and comfort subsided but was not lost.


	3. Chapter 3

The case continued, albeit complicated by and full of intriguing mathematical expertise. Robbie came into his own and was able to rise above his grief and unravel who was who in this gruesome scenario as more victims died in mysterious circumstances. Along the way he found an old crossword of Morse's in the Griffon file and was stumped by Morse's 'Polo not king after all.' He went for a walk to ruminate and leaning on Magdalen Bridge, gazing at the river, Kate spied her man from the other side of the road. She seized another opportunity, quickly bought two ice lollies and interrupted his reverie by presenting him with one. Kate was thrilled to solve the elusive cryptic clue and so delighted was Robbie that he thrust his half eaten ice lolly in her hand and set off running back to the station, shouting to her "Give me a ring. I'd like that." What on earth did I say that for? he said to himself, even as he ran. How stupid of me. She's OK but not my type at all. Kate on the other hand was filled with glee. He likes me. He really does. He wants to see me again. I will ring him. Soon. I really will. Oh goody, goody and she sucked hard on his lolly in her excitement. Sadly for Kate out of sight became out of mind and he hoped she wouldn't ring. If she did he would excuse himself. No point in seeing her again. No bloody point at all.

Laura on the other hand was comforted by Robbie's return. They were friends. She liked him very much. He liked her, she knew that. He sought her out, albeit about work. She too could imagine them getting closer but she wasn't in a hurry. Day 1 - he was back and that was enough. It was a start. For Robbie, being back in Oxford was a mixed blessing. He felt as lonely as ever. The wanderer had returned, but he was a changed man.

Her life was never at a standstill while Robbie was overseas. She was settled with a great sense of belonging in Oxford. Outside work, which fulfilled her and enriched her life, she felt little need to seek a social life. As a long term resident of the city, she'd been a student there, Laura had a full address book from the academic community and working at the Radcliffe generated even more contacts, but she wasn't gregarious, she liked her solitary life, her own company. She kept in touch with a few friends from university days, Ellen being the most constant, the one who spanned most years. Ellen moved away to work and Ligiea, who had completed the trio of friends in the old days, was still around, working at the Institute of Molecular Biology in Oxford, though Laura preferred to keep the three of them to a few evenings a year, catching up, mostly in the city. Since student days they would repeat this pattern for the next twenty years. Laura recognised in Ligiea, a high maintenance, ambitious, ruthless, even devious personality. She was a beauty and clever but had a brittle quality that prevented Laura getting closer. Days were when they shared a house, each other's clothes, even occasionally each other's men, but those were long past and the three only met up when Ellen was in town. It's surprising when you live in a small city that there's some people you never bump into whereas others cross your path all the time.

As a pathologist Laura did research and taught at the Radcliffe as well as attending scenes of crime to assess what happened when someone was murdered. She had a good rapport with her students and the medical fraternity and with the police. Over the years there had been a few short lived relationships with some of the doctors, and in her younger days with a DI, but she knew in her heart it hadn't been who or what she wanted. She hadn't found the one, if indeed there was a one. She knew that. Regularly men sought her out. How could they not? Laura was very appealing, small, feisty, intelligent - the perfect woman many thought. She had variety in her life and now and again enjoyed drinks, dinner, a concert, a walk by the river, sex even, but she was yet to meet that someone who could stoke the fire that burned within her, to know again the fluttery, teenagery excitement. At ease with herself and happy with her lot she felt that one day she might meet a man she could love and who would complement her life.

With Robbie back at the helm, the case surrounding the Griffon family was in full swing and Laura enjoyed that feeling. She respected his position and valued the work they shared and while she hoped to see more of him that hadn't happened yet. As she cycled home from work one day her thoughts turned to him once more. Bizarrely he was the rare man who could periodically fill her head with that slow swell of eroticism. Relishing thoughts of Robbie could be a time consuming pastime so she was used to censoring herself. She must find some distance emotionally and maintain their status quo. He came with terrible baggage and though more than anything she wanted to be there for him always, he was embarking on a new life and the whole character of their relationship, such as it was, would be reset. Laura had felt deeper currents between them over the years, but his being back meant a new page, a clean sheet. His painful past was still clearly with him, weighing heavily and would get in the way of any possible romantic link between them in the foreseeable future. Oh the rewards and complexities of middle age Laura mused as she let herself into her house with a wry smile.

Half an hour later, running gear on, headphones and music at the ready, Laura set off for the river and the chance to put Robbie, if not behind her, aside for a while. Running cleared her head and gave her space to think and to breathe deeply. After half an hour she was ready to rest for a few minutes before the last laps which would take her home. She slowed and found a bench, checked the time on her phone and was joined almost immediately by another runner coming from the opposite direction. "Peter" he said, "New to Oxford but not to running." "Laura, new to running but not to Oxford" she responded and stood to resume her run. She jogged along comfortably pleased to be on the homeward stretch and the pleasant prospect of a shower, food and a glass of wine in the garden. She'd not got far when she was outrun. Peter - her phone in his hand - which he gave her and with a smile and a wave he ran on. "Bye Laura, see you again" he called out in parting and to her surprise, unbidden, the thought came into her mind I hope so.


	4. Chapter 4

Several days passed with Laura working long hours in the lab and still no Robbie. James dropped by one morning to pick up a report. Over coffee he said "What do you make of him?" "Who?" Laura asked and James laughed "DI Dull and Defeated of course." "Oh James that's not fair it's early days yet and Robbie is neither. You'll learn to respect him and enjoy working with him." "No chance" laughed James. "My boss is back soon and I'm off. I'm only on secondment to Lewis thank goodness. He's competent, I'll give him that but it's DI Grainger any day for me. Innocent has no time for Lewis, you know that don't you?" "Oh James" said Laura again, smiling, "Give him time. He's the most insightful person, with a sharp mind and a sharp wit. Just you wait until he really gets into his stride and you will learn what it takes to make a good detective." James departed with a wave and called out "I don't intend to stay around that long."

He had been back in Oxford for a few weeks now and Laura had rarely seen Robbie. This gave her time to reflect. She hoped he wasn't too lonely and sad and also that he wasn't working round the clock. Then James called in again. "Well?" said Laura, "How are things? Any improvement?" "He's a fast worker, I'll give him that" laughed James. "He's not above flirting with any bit of skirt that comes his way. He's clearly smitten with Dr Jekyll at the Sleep Clinic and she with him and there's another woman he seems to have the hots for - Trudi Griffon, partner of the murdered man and mother of the murdered student. He's getting on with the case though, in spite of bad vibes coming his way every time Innocent gets near him. And he totally accepted responsibility when she went for me." The thought of Robbie with two women in tow delivered an unexpected stab and was hard for Laura to process. And so soon. She didn't want too believe James; she didn't believe him, that wasn't Robbie, but she felt dejected and low as she left work and set off for a run later with the aim of dispersing the disappointment, which she knew was irrational. She had neither seen nor heard from Robbie in some time. Running soothed her and Oxford worked its magic so that she found solace and peace of mind in the evening light and cool clear air. When she stopped at the bench it occurred to her that she hadn't see Peter either since their first encounter - 'ships that pass in the night' she laughed and on cue he appeared. "Laura - it is, isn't it?" " "Right" she smiled and smiling back he offered "I work at the Radcliffe." "Me too, at times and the mortuary and path lab." Hearing him speak again and with a bit more to say this time she realised he was American. He went on to explain he was here for a year as a visiting professor and would be giving the keynote address at a conference on new treatments in Juvenile Diabetes. With that happening soon, running helped him organise his thoughts and line of argument. They parted with a smile. She felt happier and more settled on the homeward run. If I bump into Peter at the hospital I might ask him round for a drink. He beat her to it though and next day she was surprised to receive an email from Dr Peter Miner of Princeton University. It was an invitation to a reception to welcome overseas visitors on Sunday evening, to be held in the Sheldonian, an iconic Oxford building designed by Wren. 'How nice'she thought and looked forward to it. She would probably know others there and if she felt Peter was responsive would invite him, and his wife if he had one, over for a drink.

Saturday passed with chores, some work and time to relax in the garden with a glass of wine and the weekend papers. She loved autumnal evenings, especially when the sun still shone and she decided it was time to organise a girls night out the following week. She knew she was solitary so just now and again made the effort to connect and be with others. She could quite happily shut her front door on the rest of the world out of work time, but though living alone satisfied her it didn't hurt to socialise. She always enjoyed seeing friends even if she had to force herself to do it. The next thought that occurred to her was what to wear for Peter's invite. 'Got to look decent' she thought.

Laura usually dressed casually: jeans, trousers tee shirts and only now and again a dress. She had bought a silk dress recently however and that would do. She had a great tendency to loaf around in comfortable, unsmart shoes but her new dress meant it had to be heels. Laura prided herself on being a feminist and paid little regard to how she looked. A quick comb through her hair when she washed it, little make up, rarely wore jewellery, although she liked rings. She totally underrated how attractive she was - beautiful some would say - with a very appealing personality. She took time to prepare for Sunday's reception and after running in the early afternoon, showered and dressed and was more careful than usual with hair and make up. She wasn't out to impress anyone, just now and again she liked to give herself a boost. She didn't lack confidence but these things help and with a spray of her favourite perfume she left home. Without the heels she could easily have walked or ridden her bike but a taxi would be easier and it delivered her to the Sheldonian in minutes. Straight away Laura saw several colleagues from the Radcliffe who all wanted to talk but she felt the need to say hello at least to Peter, but she was stopped in her tracks as she weaved her way through the crowds. "Hobson! What are you doing here?" said a voice she knew only too well. "Robbie! I could say the same about you." "I got dragooned here - forced at gunpoint you could say, by the chief super. I didn't exactly want to get togged up…" And with that he looked properly at her for the first time that night and was taken aback. 'Blimey. She looks bloody lovely. She looks amazing' went through his mind but what he said was "You here under duress too?" "No, I'm here because Peter, who is giving the welcome address, invited me" and added mischievously "A friend from the States." Not one to miss a cue Peter appeared and greeted her warmly. "Laura, how lovely to see you. I've reserved a seat for you at the front. I'll get you a drink" and with a friendly nod to Robbie whisked Laura away.


	5. Chapter 5

Robbie felt wrong-footed. HE should have offered her a drink. HE should have greeted her without whinging. With a huge stab of regret he found a seat at the back. He hoped to slip away afterwards but not before he'd chatted to Laura. It wasn't to be however. She was occupied with her friend and, in his view, with other smartarses. She won't be in need of a lift. 'Oh well, there's always tomorrow' he thought as he made for the door.

She was at ease and enjoying herself. She liked intelligent men! Crusty old consultants and academics could be a pretty arrogant and dismissive bunch but the younger ones liked to have fun and liked Laura. She was sparky, pretty and at the top of her game professionally. They had enormous respect for her expertise and sought her out as a listening post when the task in hand proved challenging. Laura was not looking for a man. Those new to Oxford were pretty dazzled by her fresh loveliness and sensing she had inadvertently become the centre of attention she decided to make a move. Peter saw her off and walked across Brasenose Square with her, then under Hertford Bridge, modelled on and known locally as the Bridge of Sighs, passing New College which looked so pretty, with its soft, yellow, evening lights twinkling in ancient windows. They could hear Evensong from within and bidding Peter goodnight and her thanks for a lovely evening Laura decided to drop into the service. She often did that as a break between late afternoon and an evening session at work. "Thank you Laura" said Peter warmly with a wave as he walked back to the reception.

Mellow anyway after a couple of glasses of bubbly and lots of animated conversation Laura sat through Evensong and allowed herself to be transported by the sacred music and the choir. She decided to walk home round the river. 'Sod the shoes' and with that she left the chapel, and strolled meditatively, lost in thought, hoping Robbie hadn't been too bored with it all. When she finally reached home, much later than she intended, she saw she'd missed a call from him. Thinking it must be work she called him - "Sorry Robbie. I've only just got in. Did you want to discuss the case or get me to run more tests?" "No, no." he responded, "Just wanted to apologise for being brusque and grumpy and say sorry we didn't get a chance to chat at all." "Oh that's OK Robbie, but thanks. Night. I'm shattered" and she put the phone down. He felt wrong-footed again. A bit irritated too. Not with her but with her admirers - with anyone who admired her in fact. 'What had she been doing that made her so late home? None of your business; don't go there' he admonished himself and went off to bed with a small, self-assured, perky blonde with a mordant wit at the forefront of his mind in spite of himself.

The first visitor the next day to the lab was Robbie. He didn't much like her "Hello stranger" yet sought to connect with her over some final but complicated details surrounding the case. He wanted to ask more about last night, and her pal Peter, but wasn't sure how much he wanted to hear, so stuck to work. That was their common ground, where they met as equals and liked each other, but before he could formulate his words she asked "How's James settling in with you and how is Dr Jekyll?" "Hathaway is doing alright and and we've moved on from the Proteus Lang Clinic to the university maths department since the other murders - one by the river and one at the Griffon home." "Oh yes and how is Trudi?" asked Laura with a twinkle in her eye, only to have Robbie fluster and bluster and make for the door. On his way out Laura asked searchingly "And how are you? Is Oxford suiting you after time away?" "I hope so. I think so." said Robbie pensively and he left the lab.

There's a wide footpath skirting the river Cherwell which runs around Oxford's city centre and that, and a track across Christchurch Meadow, are always popular. Early morning it's people with dogs and by day gaggles of students and mums with buggies and from late afternoon joggers and walkers. You can't get any speed up as it's pretty congested, cyclists too, ringing their bells and coming up far too fast behind the others, but the Oxford evening light is special as the sun goes down and the views back to the city are spectacular. Laura favoured that route being fairly new to running and rarely ventured off the beaten track. If she felt churned up by the day's events, or if life was complicated, as it can be for all, she occasionally ran beyond the town and headed one evening towards Wolvercote. She'd been to The Trout with Morse many years ago, but once she reached the bridge which spanned the river and led to the pub, she turned and made her way back, walking when she felt too tired to run.

Still her thoughts turned to Robbie. 'Have I run out of road with him?' Laura wondered. He was awkward with her. Abrupt she was used to, and grumpy and brusque, but weeks without sight or sound of him was something new. They used to seek each other out regularly and most of the time good humour bubbled just below the surface. She totally understood he had only been back a month, but it wasn't just his absence from her life, it was his lack of interest in her lately when they did meet over work. Perhaps, Laura thought, she was reading too much into this. And she had seen him today and he had apologised, but things weren't what they used to be and she didn't like it.

Robbie at his flat that evening was contemplating why, seeing Laura, so beautiful and happy at the reception, had touched such a raw nerve in him. And again at work earlier, she'd spoken to him just like she would to anyone else, when they'd been mates for a long time and he'd always felt close to her. It started to dawn on him that not only had he kept his distance but he had taken her for granted. Initially she had been delighted to see him and he her. She'd been warm and compassionate. He hadn't. 'It must have something to do with that man in her life' he deduced. A man he knew absolutely nothing about. It hurt. 'Why?' he asked himself. He knew then he'd have to make an effort otherwise he'd lose her, if he hadn't already. Not as a girlfriend - that wasn't them - but as a close and valued friend, someone special in his life who he could turn to at any time. His grief had crippled him and he might never be able to have another relationship. It had changed him too, but he knew that all lives have grief and joy and he would have to somehow, somewhere, find some joy. His flirting with the women in the case - he wouldn't call it that - which Laura seemed to find amusing - was ridiculous. It hadn't happened. He knew he mustn't fall apart or grow apart from Laura, but first he had to find a way back and he knew that could only come from him. She'd done nothing wrong. How he missed their contact, loved their sparring over her sharp - could be argumentative - quips and retorts. Now he felt lonely in her company. He didn't like it. It was important to retrieve what he had lost, to regain their spark, and with that half-hearted attempt at positive thought, Robbie went to bed.

The next day Jean Innocent was alone in her office when Laura sought her out. "I've filed all the forensic reports to date online" and told her which folders they were in, then asked "How are the boys getting on?" Jean's response was "New or old?" "Both." "Well after a shaky start Lewis has shaped up quite well" said Jean, if not exactly enthusiastically, at least with respect for his handling of the investigation so far. "Grainger won't be coming back here and surprisingly Hathaway is making noises about joining Lewis's team. I just hope that works out. Both have a lot to learn and are very different." Laura smiled. She agreed. Lewis - staid, older, set in his ways, kinder, but damaged by life. Hathaway - younger, clever, cocky - with hidden depths and an inner tussle about whether to settle. Laura called in at Robbie's office on her way back but it was empty, so she walked slowly back to the hospital. She turned over in her mind what to do with her life, her future. Oxford was home and she was happy, but one day she might want to go back to London where she was born. She had been headhunted a few times now and offered a far greater salary, better resources, more responsibility and opportunities for research - but the offers were based in the USA and Australia. 'Pull yourself together Laura' she chided herself. 'I don't really want to go off to the other side of the world. I waited two long years for Robbie to come back and ….' Her head whirled with thoughts of Robbie again. Work here was her life and Robbie was part of that life. Why him she could not say. Just a yearning she had, a feeling that he was special, they were special. She could hardly explain it. IF what James has told her about Robbie was true - and she could hardly believe it - and IF - 'Oh do shut up Laura, what did you expect? You hardly ever see him and when you do he doesn't really see you. Oh stop mooning over him. One minute you're OK, with the patience to wait, the next you want something, anything to happen between you. Go home Laura. Tomorrow is another day. He'll still be here and so will you.'

In the meantime she went home with the thought in her head that she would email Peter and ask him, and his wife, IF she existed, IF she was with him, round for a drink. She mulled over Robbie and James but somehow didn't feel that comfortable asking either. It was her birthday soon and she would invite him and James to her party. She wasn't even sure he'd want to come and though she continually went over why, she felt they'd lost ground recently. She countered that with the fact that nothing had really changed. She had no reason to think that - but she couldn't help asking herself 'Had it?'


	6. Chapter 6

Another week passed and she saw barely saw Robbie. She wanted his return to Oxford to make a difference but reflected sadly it had little impact on her own life. She had always felt so warm towards him. He had changed and seemed remote and unreachable. Laura wasn't lonely - she could feel more lonely in company than on her own, which is why she regretted the loss of Robbie as a friend. Had she imagined they were special? Would they ever know again that freshness and spark they once had in the days when he was so much more relaxed with her. She wanted to fit into his life but this brooding Robbie seemed determined to isolate himself and in the process she felt he had little or no room for her. Working on the same case they were worlds apart and she felt unable to bridge the gulf. She saw more of James than him.

With the nights drawing in Laura was leaving work earlier to run before it got too dark. She had looped around the river and as luck would have it saw Robbie on the towpath below the Botanic Gardens. Taking the bull by the horns she was determined to draw him into conversation. "Hello Robbie. I take it you're not out for a run?" "Never" he laughed "Although I know it might help. Do you fancy a drink Laura? Either a quick nightcap or a coffee somewhere?" Laura gulped. He'd beaten her to it. "Love to" and together they wandered into the city and found a pub with a quiet corner and a blazing log fire. "What are you doing with yourself these days outside of work?" she asked. "I just work. That's all. There's nothing else" was his glum response and knew he was presenting a plodding, boring, elderly version of the man he felt he used to be. He was worn out with trying too hard to keep busy. "Grief is horrible and hard and never ending and there's no panacea for it" Laura said gently and was touched that Robbie put a slightly shaky hand over her own. 'Now or never' she thought and heard herself say "Would you like to come over to supper one night? I could ask James too if you like, but that might be early days for you, and you might like to meet Peter - remember you met him briefly at the lecture a couple of weeks ago? I could invite him too. I think you'd like him." While privately Robbie was thinking he would not like the man who was so easy and confident around Laura, he found himself agreeing to an evening, to be arranged. 'Put it off for a while. With a bit of luck he might get called back home' he mused, but then felt churlish. 'For God's sake man this is too good an offer. Don't look a gift horse..even if..no don't go there.' They finished their drinks and both felt cheered and warmer. With a lovely sense of relief they parted, Laura declined a lift and Robbie returned to the police station. Small steps, which helped.

A week or so later and dinner was arranged for the Friday night. Laura had decided to leave James out for the time being. When Friday came she left work in plenty of time to catch the fish stall in the covered market. She'd rung earlier and ordered a couple of large crabs and some samphire and moved on to buy fruit and vegetables and finally headed for the French cheese stall which was almost as good as any of the cheeses in France, with daily deliveries from across the channel. Robbie had called in at the flower stand himself and asked for something exquisite with the emphasis on small and beautiful. He was delighted with a perfectly tasteful posy of autumnal flowers and leaves. He bought a couple of bottles of wine and took a taxi over to Laura's, feeling that he might need a drink and didn't want to compromise his driving. He could always get a taxi back or walk. It was a lovely evening. He wasn't relishing the thought of friend Peter, but if dinner with him meant he got to spend time with Laura again, so be it.

She came to the door with the news that Peter had been called back to the States. She didn't know him well, it wasn't a problem, just a planned trip to his daughter's graduation. She added that there would be another chance to meet him as his wife and both children were coming to spend Christmas in England. 'There is a God' was Robbie's heartfelt silent thanks for this bonus, this win-win of an evening. Peter was not having dinner with them; he had a wife and Laura seemed comfortable with all that. The evening ahead grew rosier by the minute.

Laura was determined to keep things light and happy and had planned a simple meal. Crab linguine with a salad, followed by cheeses and fresh fruit. She'd put a bottle of champagne in the chiller the day before and decided to go ahead and open it for the two of them. Robbie downed his first glass quickly which had the instant effect of lifting him out of his lethargy. He felt relaxed and happy for once and engaged and was amazed that all it took was a glass of bubbly. But he knew that wasn't all it took. It was mostly due to being with Laura, away from the grim and grisly details of work and away from the myriad things that got in their way. Once the champagne was finished they prepared the meal together, chatting happily about all sorts of inconsequential things. She prepared the crab, which is a quick and simple dish in spite of sounding exotic and he the salad. Laura had asked if he liked shellfish so on the advice of the vintner had bought a bottle of Albariño. Normally he'd buy a French wine but was advised the acidity of the Spanish wine complemented most fish dishes. He opened the chilled wine, they ate, they drank, and laughing their heads off drew the line at opening a bottle of red to go with the cheese. Instead Laura served a small glass of port, although both felt they'd had enough. They made short work of the clearing up and feeling full, but comfortably so, and happier than either had felt since his return, they sat in front of the wood burner with tea, neither being a huge coffee fan. It was well after midnight before Robbie started to make a move.

As he left he kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Goodnight Laura. That was a smashing evening. The best." and he meant it. She was glowing with the food and the wine, the warmth of the fire and a very special friendship regained. Robbie, for once, felt he was in the right place at the right moment. He felt surprising calm and contented. Laura had reached out and restored them. The wanderer had indeed returned. Who could ask for anything more?

 **I have loved reading the Lewis FanFiction and though I feel it's dying a death now, I am alright with that. Life moves on. This is my first and last attempt to write something. I had much help and regular support from cuthbert (if I put the m in front of this FF removes it but she knows it has meant a lot) so many thanks to her from me and to the Lewis fandom too who have sent me messages and given me so much pleasure with their stories over the years.**


End file.
